


give me both your hands

by afire



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F, i'm not sure what all happens but i like it i think, just mal n evie being in love, set in the d1 timeline right after they get taken to auradon, this has been in my pocket for months
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 04:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20091127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afire/pseuds/afire
Summary: This is, above all, an apology.(or: mal gets it wrong sometimes, but that's okay because evie is always there to correct her)





	give me both your hands

**Author's Note:**

> Highly recommended that you listen to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YF-8Goo9AFA) song, which this is based on, as you read.

This is, above all, an apology.

This is an apology because the Isle is corruption. Nothing good can grow in unholy soil, and anything that survives is quickly destroyed.

Auradon exists as a separate entity, on the other side of the veil. Mal is convinced that they operate under an illusion, a collective hypocrisy that allows them to ignore the Isle just as surely as they pride themselves on second chances.

* * *

The afternoon that Ben’s decree arrives, Mal is tired. She is always tired, but today the exhaustion is bone-deep. Today she is barely listening as her mother schools her on the benefits of cruelty. At some point, she thinks, something will have to give.

And so it does.

The limousine arrives, gliding through the streets with no regard for what it’s running over. In a moment of cynical amusement, Mal acknowledges the bitter irony of that even as her mother is shrieking at her about a wand.

She swallows her retorts, allows herself to be silently shoved into the backseat of the sleek vehicle, and only cracks a smile when Jay and Carlos start fighting over the chocolate.

Perhaps this is luck, or even destiny. They are still children, and Mal is tired, but she is not her mother. Corruption takes time, and maybe the cycle has been broken. She does not recognise the foreign feeling for what it is until they are past the barrier.

Hope.

**&.**

Auradon is bright, like the Isle has never been, and the light glinting off the limousine is almost blinding when Mal steps into the sunshine.

Immediately, it is too loud.

The cacophony of sound is almost tangible, and after sixteen years of jumping awake at the slightest movement, Mal feels herself start to shut down.

Then Evie’s arm curves around her waist, and she is being led away from the crowd, into the shade of a grove of trees.

“Deep breaths, Mal.”

It’s a familiar mantra, Mal’s heard it a thousand times, and she falls easily into following its rhythm.

“Thanks,” she says, when she can.

Evie looks almost amused, but her smile is too sad to be anything else. “Always.”

These are the consequences of the Isle, where children inherit the sins of their parents, and the only trust fund they have is a lifetime of imprisonment, their only reward for being born under a throne of evil.

Being in Auradon doesn’t erase that, but maybe with time the wound will heal. Even so, Mal doesn’t doubt that it’ll scar. She’ll carry the Isle with her forever.

Some things can never be forgotten.

**&.**

The truth is, Evie has always deserved better, and Mal has always known.

In another life, she is the princess she was born to be, where castles are homes and not prisons. In that life, she does not need a mirror to see her beauty. In that life, her mother’s approval does not come at much too high a cost.

And, now that they’re in Auradon, maybe that can be this life.

Because their parents cannot reach them here. For the first time in sixteen years, they are on the other side of the barrier, and maybe the magic will finally protect who it was meant to protect all along.

It’s not a second chance, not quite, because they were never given a first one, but perhaps it can be a fresh start.

That seems possible here, in the land where dreams come true. And Mal only has one dream, only wants one thing from Auradon. The same dream she’s had for the longest time: for Evie to be happy. Purely, and truly. The kind of happiness that is so real, it starts to feel almost mystical.

**&.**

The curtains are open in their room, sunlight glaring easily through the windows.

Mal closes them, but it is Evie who turns the radio off.

“Oh, I thought-“

“It’s not.” Evie pauses for a second before continuing. “Just the radio, Mal. Someone must’ve left it on.”

“Figures,” Mal says, wandering over to the dresser and fiddling with the knobs on the machine.

There hadn’t been any radios on the Isle, at least, not at the hideout. Not since Evie had realised that Mal’s head is so noisy sometimes, she can’t tell if the static she’s hearing is real or not.

It had driven her crazy, but Jay had smashed the radio to bits with a hammer and then thrown the broken pieces out the window, so it’d stopped being a problem.

At least, until now.

“They think we’re okay.”

Evie meanders closer, gently steering Mal away from the dresser and toward one of the beds, where they both can sit down.

“They think we’re okay,” she says again. “They think we’re evil, but okay. That doesn’t make any sense, Evie.”

“Maybe they’re just very good at pretending.” Evie’s voice is measured but sure, even as it breaks ever so slightly with her next words. “But I don’t want to go back.”

And Mal can’t say it, because it is too much to stomach at the moment, but she would do absolutely anything to make sure Evie stays in Auradon. Because there is hope here, if little else, and right now, Mal will take anything she can get.

“You won’t.”

“What if they-“

Mal is shaking her head before Evie can even finish her sentence. “You won’t. I promise.”

She doesn’t know how much her promises are worth, the word of a girl who’s spent her whole life being taught that the only person in the world she should look out for is herself. But Evie is smiling as she nods, trusting implicitly even though she’s been told that blind faith is dangerous, even though she’s suffered through that mistake more than once.

And all Mal can do is stare at their clasped hands, silently swearing that Auradon will have to go through her before they can even think about getting close to Evie.

**&.**

The afternoon crawls slowly onward, and Mal tracks the time by watching shadows skitter beneath the curtains.

What shakes her out of her own head is the deafening silence that envelopes the room once night starts to fall.

The ringing in her ears rises to an almost uncomfortable volume, and Mal suddenly realises that she’s never experienced a complete absence of noise before.

Then she realises that Evie probably has.

Back on the Isle, it had never truly been quiet. There had always been some sort of scuffle, and sound carries easily, careening off of the steel structures. Mal doesn’t think she’s ever gone to sleep without violence in the background.

But those years that Evie had been forced to spend in her castle, doomed to walk the halls with doors locked and windows shut. Those years had probably been almost entirely silent, with only the Evil Queen’s grating voice for company.

That had changed when they’d all practically moved into the hideout, but Mal is filled with the sudden need to make Evie’s first night in Auradon one to remember, and for the right reasons.

She stands without thinking, and Evie turns to look at her, brows creasing together in a confused frown.

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”

Mal shakes her head even as she moves toward the door, pulling it open and checking to see if the hallway is empty.

There is no one awake at this time of night, not in Auradon, and when Mal steps out into the corridor, Evie follows. It’s obvious that she’s still confused, but also that she’s not about to let Mal wander a strange place on her own.

They are no longer on the Isle, where danger dogs every footstep, but old habits die hard, and there has always been safety in numbers.

But, and there is always a but, this is Auradon. And here, Mal is just a girl. Here, her name holds no weight, and there is no power in her footsteps. So if some terrible tragedy befalls them, she cannot promise safety.

And yet, there is something undeniably freeing about this experience. Because for sixteen years, Mal has been nothing but her mother’s daughter. Maybe here she can finally be herself, and nothing more.

Evie follows closely behind as they navigate through the halls, and Mal knows she’s keeping track of all the twists and turns. If they have to turn back, Evie will know the way.

There is no need, though, because the next right brings them face to face with a set of ornate wooden doors, and here Mal stops. She reaches to pull on the handle, but it clicks against the lock, and the door does not budge.

“Quietly,” Evie says, even as she moves closer.

Mal nods, wrapping her fingers around the handle again and muttering under her breath. A spell she’s memorised, because she’s read that book a dozen times. There is only one library on the Isle, and its collection is pitiful at best.

This time, when she pulls, the door gives easily. Mal turns, holding out a hand, and Evie takes it without question before they both slip into the room.

**&.**

Inside, it is dark. This is, of course, not an issue for either of them.

Mal ventures further into the space, so large that she can’t quite see the walls when she’s in the centre. When she turns, Evie is right there, brown eyes wide in the semi-darkness.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” she says, though the words feel hollow, as if she’s just saying them because she knows someone has to.

There is something about this place, the promise of a happy ending, almost as if there is magic woven into the walls that surround them. Mal thinks she’s chosen the right room.

“That’s why we are.”

For a moment, they merely stand in silence, then Mal mutters another spell, and suddenly they are swimming in light. At a glance, it is painfully obvious that there could be more, but for now, this will have to do.

Because, and this is what hurts the most, Mal is aware that she has always fallen short. She knows that she has never been enough, because how could she be? Even on the Isle, where her name had bought protection, there had always been something better, something she could not give. Someone she could not be.

But, maybe for one night, she can try. Maybe for one night, before their lives here truly start, she can try to be enough. For Evie, if nothing else, because there is little Mal wouldn’t do for her, for the girl who has always deserved better.

Mal had given her as much as she could, back on the Isle. Slim pickings were still pickings, and Mal had made sure that Evie got the best. But the best of the worst is nothing to write home about, and that’s where it ends on the Isle.

The story is different in Auradon. Here, things don’t end so much as they begin. The best of what the Isle has to offer cannot even hold a candle to Auradon’s worst, and all Mal wants to do is show Evie the glittering expanse of opportunity that is available to her here. To show her how she can shine.

To ask for her forgiveness.

* * *

So, this is an apology.

This is an apology because Evie has always been better than the Isle, better than what she had been given, better than what Mal could provide.

And maybe this is her chance to finally right those wrongs, because it is not her fault that the Isle breeds suffering, but she still feels as if she owes Evie something better.

Mal has no idea how to put any of that into words, but this is Auradon, and she is willing to try. Because right now, she is no longer the tired girl, Maleficent’s daughter, born to rule. She is just Mal, and what Mal wants is for Evie to be happy.

So she takes a single step back, sweeps into an exaggerated bow, and offers Evie her hand.

“May I have this dance?”

Evie smiles, bright and true, happiness shining in her eyes. “There isn’t any music,” she says, even as she takes Mal’s hand and steps forward.

“That’s an easy fix.”

Mal mutters yet another spell, and then they are awash in the low hum of an unfamiliar melody.

Evie just laughs, but dutifully starts to lead them across the polished wooden floors. Mal is not as well-practiced in the art of dance, and she stumbles, but Evie catches her easily, gracefully adapting to the lapses in balance, almost as if she had been born for this life.

And, as far as Mal is concerned, she has.

Because, looking at her now, no one can deny that there is royalty in her veins. Even back on the Isle, she had held herself with an elegance that could only have been self-taught. What the Evil Queen knew of poise had long been forgotten, even before the Isle. Evie is her own princess, and no one is going to take that from her, Mal will make sure of it.

They dance until the spell wears itself out, spinning to a final stop as the last chord rings through the otherwise empty ballroom.

Evie’s hands fall away, but she doesn’t move back, comfortable in Mal’s personal space, like she has always been. For a moment, there is silence, then Mal takes a deep breath, readying herself for the conversation she knows they need to have.

Because she may have been taught never to apologise, but this isn’t the first of her mother’s lessons that she will have to unlearn, and it won’t be the last.

“Do you think you can forgive me?”

“Forgive you? What for?” Evie seems startled, hands flying up to lock around Mal’s wrists.

“For never being enough.” Mal hangs her head for a second before looking up, squaring her shoulders even as Evie’s lips pull into a confused frown. No more running away. She may never hold claim to her suffering, but the very least she can do is own this apology. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be better for you on the Isle, I tried my best.”

“Mal, what are you talking about?”

“I couldn’t give you more, and I’m sorry. You’ve always deserved better.”

“I don’t understand,” Evie says slowly, hands still clasped around Mal’s wrist.

“Let me be better for you. I know it isn’t worth much, but I promise to be better.” Mal’s shoulders pull up in a show of uncertainty. “I mean, if you still want me around.”

“I always want you around,” Evie says immediately. “But I still don’t understand. Why do you need my forgiveness? What are you apologising for?”

Mal just blinks, shoulders falling. “For the Isle,” she says. “For not being able to give you more when we were there. For not protecting you from our parents.” She pauses for a fraction of a moment. “For everything.”

Evie’s reply is swallowed when the light above them starts to flicker, struggling for a second before going out completely. At the same time, Mal feels her knees buckle, and she’s falling forward before it even registers that her legs have given way.

She doesn’t get very far. Evie catches her, instinctively shifting to accomodate the extra weight. Mal takes a breath, waiting for her vision to clear before standing shakily.

“I didn’t think it would run out this quickly,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Evie takes her hand, and Mal follows without complaint, only pausing to close the ballroom door on their way out.

The winding hallways start to blur in front of her, but Evie’s steps are measured and confident, and they’re back in their room before long.

Mal is led to the bed, and after she sits, Evie throws the curtain open. Moonlight glazes across the floor, and the room is bathed in silver.

“I still don’t quite understand why you’re asking for my forgiveness,” Evie says, taking a seat next to Mal. She seems to hesitate before folding her hands neatly in her lap. “There’s nothing to forgive, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I haven’t done anything right, either.” Mal shrugs. “I thought I could be better, but maybe Auradon isn’t meant for people like me.”

“I think we just have to get used to it.”

“We?” Mal looks up, and Evie isn’t smiling, but there’s something very sincere in her expression.

“Mal, you and I are the same kind of people.”

“No. No, that’s not right. You’re a princess, this is where you were always meant to be. I just got lucky.”

“Mal, we are both Isle girls, that won’t change no matter where we are.” Evie pauses, as if contemplating her next words. “If you’re asking for my forgiveness, then I need to ask for yours.”

“What? No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. I couldn’t protect you from the Isle, either.”

“My safety wasn’t your responsibility.”

“What makes you think mine was yours?”

Mal has no answer for that. She stares at her hands, then looks up to see that Evie is smiling, soft and sweet in the moonlight.

“So, do you forgive me?”

“Evie, there’s nothing I need to forgive you for.”

“Then the same goes for me. I don’t need your apologies, Mal.”

“What do you need, then?”

Because even Mal knows a cue when she sees one.

“Stay with me,” Evie says simply. “Be the same girl you’ve always been. I needed her on the Isle, and I’ll need her here in Auradon.”

And, maybe once upon a time, back before everything, Mal wouldn’t say this. But things have changed, and she is no longer afraid. She is not untouchable here, but they cannot hurt her in ways that will matter. So she just smiles, easy and true. “Anything for you.”

“I know.” Evie is luminescent in the moonlight, and when she reaches over to take Mal’s hand, it feels like a moment that’s been waiting to happen. “So, can I tell you something? It’s a secret, but not really.”

“Go for it.”

“I think that, maybe, if the Isle isn’t what it is, I would’ve said something before. But we aren’t on the Isle anymore, so none of that matters.”

Evie pauses, and Mal lets the silence hang between them, not wanting to interrupt.

“The truth is, I love you, and not in the way that my mother intended me to love. This is different. Honestly, I’m a little afraid.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s new. I don’t know what to expect.”

“Same as always, I think.” Mal may not know much, but she knows this. “Evie, you and I have been in love for a very long time.”

This is the one thing that the Isle has not taken from her, the one thing that it could not destroy. Mal has always loved Evie, and that will never change.

“You’ve never mentioned it.”

“I thought you knew.”

Evie smiles, bright and real. “I guess I did.”

And, this is by no means a happy ending, but Mal thinks it’s a pretty good start.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written entirely on the notes app on my phone exclusively at two in the morning while I listened to that Meadowlark song on repeat, it was also written months ago, but trust me when I say you don't want to have seen the first draft of it.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this little throwback as the third movie drops, you can find me on Twitter [@scorpiowaltz](https://twitter.com/scorpiowaltz) and on Tumblr [@softpluto](https://taylorswift.co.vu/) if you want to let me know what you think! Requests are, as always, tentatively open, I cannot promise anything but I always want to hear your ideas.
> 
> No one has asked me this, but I probably am going to do a rewrite of the third movie, and it'll most likely be a continuation of what happens in the rewrite I did for the second. I don't know, it depends, we'll see!
> 
> Until next time, catch ya' on the flipside!


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